From “When He Calls Your Name,” by Catherynne M. Valente:
But she wasn’t really a city girl either, despite her fine clothes and fine way of talking and standing and laughing and being. Not unless that city was Uruk. Or Troy. Or Jericho.
Bluesky post by @maksim-dorky.bluesky.social:
Apologies to Kurt Vonnegut, but I think one of the most important lessons of the early 21st century should be “Reality is what we portray it to be, so we should all be careful about what we portray it to be.”
From “The Collector as Autocrat,” by Ruth Bernard Yeazell:
[Albert C. Barnes] also took to acquiring expensive cars and speeding tickets to match, a habit that persisted until 1951, when he tore through a stop sign for which he had lobbied and died in the resulting crash.
…
The exhibition, which Barnes had championed, evoked a storm of abuse from conservative members of the city’s elite, much of it spewed forth at a meeting of local doctors specially convened to diagnose the various “diseases” from which the artists were said to suffer.
From The Possession of Alba Díaz, by Isabel Cañas:
I once heard it said that the words themselves are curse. That the tale, once told, will evaporate like mercury.
From The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother), by Rabih Alameddine:
I begin this story with the lie, and like a great August whale leading other sea creatures in her wake, it was followed by a whole pod.
